-CHAPTER ONE-

-THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS-

"You're going to be in Slytherin," Albus Potter mocked James as they pushed through the crowd of Muggles on the crowded train platform.

"Be quiet, Albus," Harry hissed, catching up to them with Ginny, his wife. Harry Potter stood at the same spot where he had stood when he was first going to Hogwarts.

King's Cross had changed since the last time Harry or Ginny stood there. None of the people who worked at the platform were here, all gone and replaced with new and fresh faces that Archibald did not recognise. He saw Muggles going about, hopping on their trains, not knowing that another world lived beyond a barrier of brick walls.

"Will I go into Slytherin?" James asked, his voice nervous and trembling. "I don't want to go into Slytherin. Uncle Ron said that's the Hogwarts House, where all the bad wizards came from.

Ginny scowled at James, and her face nearly matched the colour of her hair. "Uncle Ron was only messing about that. I'll have a word with him when I go and see Hermione."

"Some were good," Harry said and knelt in front of James to meet him in the eyes. "If I thought all the wizards and witches who came from that house were bad and evil, do you think I would name Albus after one of them?"

James looked back at his father with a shocked look, which spread quite quickly across his face.

"No, you wouldn't have," Harry said with a smile. "Uncle Ron..."

Ginny snorted from behind Harry. Her coat ruffled in the wind that swept across the platform.

"I'll have to have a word with Uncle Ron," Ginny said with a soft smile and shook her head. She rested her hand very softly on her son's shoulder. "You'll be fine. Teddy and Victoria will look after after you. They said they would."

"I don't need looking after, especially not from a girl," James said with a scowl that matched his father's. He caught his mother's look and blushed. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Harry said, grinning. "But, the two people in my life who protected me and kept me safe were women. Your mother and Aunt Hermione."

"Hermione's one of the brightest witches of her age, wasn't she?"

"Still is," Ginny corrected him and ruffled her hair. "Why don't we get moving?"

Harry agreed and held onto Albus's hand, making sure it was gripped tightly around his own. The crowd was massive, even bigger than the first time that he had come to King's Cross after the Dursleys had left him to find out where he needed to go. It was there where Harry first saw Ginny, not knowing that she would be his wife or the woman who would change his life. He met Ron here as well.

"Are you Harry Potter?" Ron's voice echoed to him.

A few witches and wizards caught his look. Smiling, some waving. Harry did not smile or wave back but nodded.

"You're really famous, aren't you, Dad?" James swallowed thickly and looked scared. There was a look of fear in his eyes. "What if everyone thinks I'm you or wants me to be as good as you?"

Harry rested his hand softly on James' shoulder.

"You'll make us proud no matter what you do. Just don't mess around like Uncle George and Fred did."

James couldn't help but grin.

"We mean that, James," Ginny said sternly but with a warm look on her face. "I don't want to hear you've been sneaking around the castle grounds at

"Dad did that and he turned out fine," James said, making his mother giggle.

"James Sirus Potter," she said, using his full name, and he stood still where he was. "I'm warning you," she added, jabbing a finger at him. "Go. Go to Hogwarts."

James Potter, the oldest son of Harry Potter, closed his eyes as he pushed the creaking trolley, packed with a trunk that was heavier than anything he had lifted in his life and moved straight toward the sold barrier between platforms nine and ten. His father had told him countless stories about walking or even crashing right through that same wall, but knowing and doing were two different things. James swallowed hard, braced himself, and leaned forward, ready to move.

For a split second, he felt sure he would slam right into the bricks. Then, with a strange whooshing feeling that felt as if water had trickled over him, he appeared on the other side. Opening his eyes, a blast of brilliant steam from the scarlet Hogwarts Express greeted him as his trolley came to a skidding stop and stumbled out onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

James took a deep breath in and fought against the trembling. This was his moment. His father made his story at Hogwarts, and it was time to make his own. He tightened his grip around the handle and pushed the trolley a little further towards the train that would take him to Hogwarts. This was the train that his father once took, other than flying the car into the Whomping Willow. Harry had met his best friends here, and James wondered if he would meet his.

Owls hooted and flapped around. Cats sprinted across the ground, and young witches and wizards desperately tried to catch them.

He couldn't believe that the Hogwarts Express was right in front of him, towering in a gaze of steam that drifted across the busy and crowded platform, almost making people vanish. Its gleaming scarlet paint caught the soft glimmers of the morning sun, and even though James had heard countless stories about this train, how it would whisk him off to the most magical castle in the world, seeing it up close for the first time was breathtaking.

He stood there for a moment, hands still wrapped around the trolley handle, taking it all in. Hordes of students, both new and returning, moved and bustled around him, calling out to friends, hugging people, crying, juggling trunks and suitcases and lifting cages full of startled owls.

A whistle blared, sending another billow of steam into the air. James felt his heart surge. A couple of more pushes with his trolley, and he would be on the Hogwarts Express.

A whistle blared, sending another billow of steam into the air. James felt his heart surge. This was it.

There was a whooshing noise behind as Harry, Ginny, and Albus all came onto the platform. Harry's eyes drifted over the gleaming scarlet train, a distant smile tugging at his lips. The old locomotive seemed unchanged, just painted, and looked just as majestic and magical as it had been all those years ago. The huff and whistle of the engine rolled echoes of the past through his mind, he and Ron racing to catch the train before it left, flying the car, the Dementor attack or Hermione waving a thick book under their noses and telling them that they needed to study as soon as they got to Hogwarts.

Ginny was thinking of the first time she laid eyes on Harry Potter. She flashed back to the time she was a young girl, small and short, unable to talk to Harry without going red or giggling and being mocked by her older brothers for it. Like Harry, she met her friends here as well, some the same as Harry.

He turned to Ginny, who wore a grin of her own. "It takes your breath away each time, doesn't it?"

Ginny nodded. "Every time," she said, looking at James in front of them. You never think back then; you'll be watching your son go off to Hogwarts.

Ginny's eyes flickered toward James, who was pushing his trolley a few paces away. His shoulders were tense with eagerness or nerves. "You remember how we felt?" she whispered so James wouldn't hear them.

"I remember what you were like," Harry teased her. "Remember when you couldn't talk to me without going red?"

Ginny blushed and was at a loss for words. "I was just a little girl who had grown up every day about you. I was starstruck; most people were. But I didn't just marry you because you're Harry Potter; I married you because of how I feel about you."

Ginny kissed Harry, and Albus suddenly crossed his arms over his chest, scowling and pulling a face.

Harry nodded, a flash of memory lighting his green eyes. Hogwarts would always be his home.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked his son. "I stood here when I first came to Hogwarts."

"You did?" James asked and felt even more nervous.

"Well, apart from the time that I flew the car to Hogwarts," he said and grinned at his son.

"That sounds cool as anything," James said."

"It was not," Ginny quickly said, sounding more like Hermione than she did herself. It was very dangerous, and he could have died."

"We wouldn't have died. Your brother's a fantastic driver," Harry said but immediately stopped when he noticed the glare coming from her eyes.

James glanced up at his father, the nervousness slowly fading. "I promise I won't fly a car to school."

Harry laughed. "I think your mum would send Howlers for weeks. I remember when Uncle Ron got one for flying the car."

"Try to stay out of trouble, okay? At least for the first year," Harry joked.

"You mean like you did?" James cheekily said, and Ginny couldn't even scowl at her husband. She, too, had the knack for getting into trouble. She had her friends, like Harry, would sneak around the castle at night, hoping to find some secret.

"You know," Ginny said with a pause. "He's getting more and more like you every day."

James grinned, proud, if a little nervous. The whistle sounded again, this time louder, sending another billow of steam through the air. In that steam, Harry could almost imagine the faintest glimpse of a younger version of himself, carrying an old battered trunk and an owl cage. He swallowed hard, fighting the tears and nudged him gently forward to say, "Go on. Find a seat. It'll be full up soon."

James floated away. Ginny tugged at his arm." Shall we see him off correctly?"

Harry smiled and sighed. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Together, both Harry and Ginny marched forward, hand in hand. Harry wished that he was a first-year going back to Hogwarts.

James stood at the doorway of the Hogwarts Express, allowing people to squeeze past. "I'll send an owl as soon as I get there," he said to his crying mother.

Her pale face was streaked with tears. Ginny quickly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, trying to keep her voice steady. "You'd better," she whispered with a beaming smile. "Or I'll send a Howler after you."

The crowd began to hide Ginny and Harry from James as students passed by in a flurry of cloaks and robes.

Harry stood behind Ginny, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You'll have a wonderful time," he said to James, leaning in as the steam from the engine swirled around them in thick clouds. "Give Hagrid and Neville our love."

"I can't give a professor and a caretaker my love!" James gasped. "I'll be laughed at."

"All right," Harry said, smiling. "But don't forget, I want no pranks on the first day. The second day, maybe."

"Harry!" Ginny playfully snapped at him and nudged him in the ribs.

Just behind Harry, Albus shifted his weight from foot to foot. He had the same nervous glint in his eyes. "I... I... I'll miss you!" Albus blurted out, stepping forward to wrap his arms around his older brother's trunk. James laughed and ruffled his younger brother's hair.

"You get to come here next year," he told him and Albus had stopped crying. "I wish Lilly was here to see me off as well. I bet she's faking being ill because she's jealous of me going to Hogwarts."

"James, you watch your mouth," Harry said but waved. "I love you, son."

"I love you, James," Ginny called out over the whistle.

"I love you too," James managed to say with the lump in his throat. He stepped on board, the trunk squeaking behind him.

As he made his way down the aisle in search of a compartment, he could still see Harry and Ginny through the window, their hands raised and waving him goodbye. He smiled and pressed his face against the window, waving. When the train lurched forward, James took a deep breath and his parents vanished from view.

What James was glad not many people would know by looking at him was that he was Harry's son. The hair and glasses were the same, but what made his father famous was his scar. There were no scars on his forehead or even on his face to tell anyone who he was. His father sat him down when he was seven, telling him why people would gawk at him or point and stare. Harry Potter, the famous wizard, defeated Lord Voldemort, a powerful and dark wizard a number of times. His mother helped, along with their friends and a lot of wizards and witches.

James ducked his head, navigating the narrow corridor that was quickly filling up with chattering students. Some were already dressed in their Hogwarts robes. Trunks thumped against the doors, owls hooted, and excited voices filled every nook of the Hogwarts Express. He paused at one of the compartments, peering through the glass to see if there was any spare room, when a familiar laugh drifted over to him.

He turned to spot Teddy Lupin standing a few steps ahead, tall and broad, with hair that turned a casual shade of red before switching to blue. Beside Teddy stood Victoire Weasley, her light-blonde hair shining in the morning sun that poured through the train's window. They were chattering with a group of older students; James guessed they were last year.

James smiled, smiled, and his face lit up at the sight of them. Teddy was family, having been raised close to the Potters ever since he was small. Victoria was the same; with. With her warm and gentle face, she had always been kind to James, offering him bits of advice whenever she was home from school.

"James Potter!" Teddy spotted him first. He waved James over, shifting his trunk to make some space in the corridor. "Looking for a compartment?"

Victoria turned, her eyes glimmering at James before smiling. "James! First year at last," she teased him and hugged him. "Feels like only yesterday you were complaining you were too young to come to Hogwarts.

The older students laughed. "I was like that when my brother went before me," the tall boy with a gleaming Head Boy badge said.

James felt as if the train floor could swallow him up at any moment. "Yeah, finally," he said. "I'm trying to find somewhere to sit but everywhere seems full.

Teddy nodded, understanding, and when he scrunched his face up, his nose changed, forcing a laugh out of James. "It does get packed pretty fast. Why don't you check down near the end of the carriage? Some of the first years usually cluster there." He dropped his voice to a quiet whisper. "Or, if you spot an empty compartment, just take it. A lot of the kids wait too long and end up standing."

"I can help you find a place to sit," Victoire said gently, looking at him as if she were his younger brother. You'll be okay, won't you?" she asked when James said he would be okay finding it on his own.

"I'll be fine, thanks."

Victoria squeezed his arm gently, and Teddy ruffled James's hair in a way that he did with Albus. The conversation behind him started as soon as he left, talking about Quid ditch and their NEWT preparations.

James moved further down the corridor. He passed a compartment where an older boy was making a plastic paper cup float without saying anything.

He struggled to get past the group of older students filling the corridor and sidestepped a caged owl flapping its wings in protest. Near the very end of the train, James finally spotted a compartment door slightly ajar. Stepping closer, he peered inside and waited.

A round-faced boy, cheeks pink and nervous, sat alone by the window. A half-unwrapped Chocolate Frog lay on the seat beside him, its wrapper crinkled and abandoned. The boy glanced up and met James's eyes, his expression tense but kind.

James cleared his throat. "Can I sit in here? Everywhere else is full."

The boy blinked, then nodded quickly. "Sure," he said in a soft but friendly voice. His tense look slowly vanishes from his face. He gestured to the seat across from him. "There's loads of room here. I guess nobody wanted to sit with the fat kid."

Not sure how to respond, James swung his trunk inside and heaved it onto the overhead rack. His owl, Jupiter, let out a disgruntled hoot from its cage atop the trunk. James shushed it and fed it a treat.

"Thanks," James said, taking a seat. He took a moment to catch his breath, smoothing down his hair. "I'm James. James Potter."

The boy raised an eyebrow at the name but said nothing more. "I'm Rodney, Rodney Havisham." He offered a shy smile, then rummaged in his pocket to pull out a slightly squashed Chocolate Frog box. "Do you want one?" he asked, hoping to share. "I bought a bunch at the station. Got a discount for being a first year."

"I love collecting these, thanks," James grinned and was beaming at the boy across him.

As the train gave a little jolt, they both glanced out of the window. That platform was rolling away, their loved ones shrinking into the distance and vanishing behind the clouds of steam.

"So," James said, tearing open the Chocolate Frog box that Rodney had handed him, "looking forward to Hogwarts."

Rodney nodded, his gaze down at his hands. "I've never really been away from home," he admitted. But yeah, I'm excited. I hope..." his voice trailed off as he looked out of the window. He had heard this train was invisible to Muggles, and if another train was hurtling past it, it would see nothing—no smoke, no train, and no people's faces staring out of the window. "I was hoping to make some friends."

"You've already made one," James said. "I'll be your friend."

"Is Harry Potter really your dad?" Rodney blurted out and felt his colours go redder than they were before.

James wondered how long it would take for someone to ask him this question. He shifted in his seat, glancing at the Chocolate Frog card that had tumbled out of the box and onto his lap, facing down.

James nodded and managed a small but tight smile. "He's my dad."

Rodney's eyes grew wider. "Your dad is... Harry Potter," he breathed. That's... wow. I've read about him, of course. I mean, everyone's read about him. My parents always say that they remember the day You-Know-Who was defeated.

James fiddled with the silver Chocolate Frog wrapper in his hands. "Well, that was a long time ago," he said, aware his cheeks were warming. "He's just my dad. I'm... just James."

Rodney stared for a moment more, then cleared his throat, seeing that he was making James uncomfortable. "Right, sorry, I didn't mean to. I've just never met anyone famous before."

James laughed, spitting chocolate out of his mouth.

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to it," James admitted, shrugging lightly. "But I'm hoping Hogwarts won't be all about who my dad is, you know? I want to make a name for myself.

"I get that," James said. "What about your family?"

Rodney glanced up at James, who sat across from him and looked suddenly shy. He took a moment to adjust the wrinkled robes he was wearing as though trying to buy time to figure out what to say.

"I never knew my father, not really. He got my mother pregnant and then just left. My mother and my parents both went to Hogwarts years ago, around the same time as your parents. My mum's a Muggle-born witch, and she said my dad comes from a long line of wizards." He paused, twiddling his thumbs. "She's married to a Muggle now; they run a little bookshop in Diagon Alley that is about magical history and rare taxes. It's small, but it's ours, and we all live above it."

"That sounds cool," James said.

James leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well, my dad has all these stories about midnight duels and Quidditch matches," he said. I'm going to try not to copy what my dad did with his adventures."

"I don't think I'm cut out for adventures," he said, patting his soft belly."

"What card did you get?" James asked Rodney. James had gotten Bowman E. Wright. "I got the person who made the Golden Snitch.

Rodney shook his head, "I got your father."

James's eyebrows shot up. He leaned forward, peering at the Chocolate Frog card in Rodney's hand. Sure enough, there was a familiar moving photograph of Harry Potter, smiling a little uncertainly beneath the bold, looping letters of his name.

James gave a small and weak laugh. "Of course you did," he murmured, shaking his head. "I swear, that card follows me everywhere."

Rodney looked between the card and James, eyes dancing in the light of the lantern above. The sky outside had gone very dark as the thick black clouds rolled in and brought in a shower of rain. "I've never actually seen one of your dad's cards in person," he admitted. "The first one I ever got was Hermione Granger. My mum said Harry's card is a pretty rare find, not many made."

James was glad that Harry had vanished from the card. "I've got a few," he said quietly. "It's a little strange that you think you're going to get a new card, and it's your dad."

"Is your mum a card as well?"

"Yeah," James said. "Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, pretty much anyone who was in the Battle of Hogwarts."

Rodney turned the card over to read the swirling text on the back, detailing Voldemort's fall and Harry's accomplishments as an Auror. Rodney whispered the lines to himself, and James felt proud to call Harry his father. "He beat a snake in his second year?" Rodney gasped when the text changed. Wow!"

"He beat Voldemort in his first year, a snake in his second, Dementors in the third year, Voldemort again in his fourth and fifth year," James said.

"What happened in his sixth and seventh year?"

"In his sixth year, he battled a bunch of Death Eaters in Hogwarts and in his last year, he didn't go back to school but spent most of the months trying to find a way to kill Voldemort."

"Amazing," Rodney said. "Simply amazing."

James's heart gave a sudden jolt. One moment, he was watching a darkened blur of green fields and winding trees fly past. Then next, a flash of something pale and menacing, like a skull, with eyes the colour of fresh-spilled blood glinted in the window's reflection. His breath caught in his throat.

He sat bolt upright, pressing closer to the glass, but the vision was gone as quickly as it had happened. Had he imagined it?

Rodney, halfway through the story about his family's bookshop, noticed James staring out of the window with a terrified look on his face. "What is it?" he asked, eyebrow knitting in concern.

James tore his gaze from the glass. "I wasn't sure. I thought I saw something."

"Like what?"

James shook his head. "It was nothing."

"Have another frog," Rodney said, chucking it over.

James smiled and took it gratefully. He opened the card, and the frog jumped straight away. "Dumbledore," James said, putting it down on the seat. "Got about thirty of him."

"It's very common," Rodney said as the footsteps drifted up to their compartment. They were the last compartment at the end of the train. On the other side of them, there wasn't a compartment, but the rack of suitcases was stacked on top of each other.