The summer passed in a blur of focused study and intense magical conditioning. The date etched into Anduin's memory—September 1st—finally arrived. He felt a quiet satisfaction with his progress: his theoretical understanding was solid, and his Barrier Charm was now a formidable weapon, capable of near-instantaneous, silent deployment.
After bidding a surprisingly emotional farewell to Tom, the proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron, Anduin set off for King's Cross Station. Tom, who had grown genuinely fond of the disciplined boy, gifted him a small, sealed wooden bucket of Butterbeer and, in return for Anduin's simple Muggle recipes like fried chicken, regarded him with near-parental affection.
Anduin arrived at King's Cross well ahead of the 11 a.m. departure time. He effortlessly maneuvered his heavy trunk and owl cage through the mundane throng of Muggles. He noticed the high number of Aurors patrolling the perimeter of Platforms 9 and 10, their presence a silent, tense reminder of the ongoing war.
They are here not just to manage the Muggles, but to ensure no Death Eaters exploit the gathering of students, Anduin correctly assessed.
With a final glance to confirm he was unobserved, he pushed his trolley directly into the invisible barrier between the platforms.
On the other side, the scene was a vibrant explosion of color and magic. The scarlet, vintage steam locomotive, the Hogwarts Express, stood waiting. Anduin, being so early, found the platform relatively empty.
He pushed his way along the train, selecting a random carriage near the middle. A simple, silent wave of his hand—the Levitation Charm—saw his heavy trunk and the cage containing his owl, Smoothwind, float effortlessly into the compartment.
Smoothwind, a dark brown Tawny Owl, was currently enjoying a late-morning nap, perched with his eyes half-closed and looking profoundly bored. Anduin settled the cage on the small table, closed the sliding door, and took a seat in the corner.
While the compartment was still empty, he exchanged his Muggle clothing for the plain black wizard robes. He then pulled out his well-worn copy of the Beginner's Guide to Transmutation and began to read, reviewing the complex theory of changing one substance into another.
Though he had mastered many defensive and utility spells, Transfiguration remained the most intellectually challenging subject—requiring a nuanced understanding he felt was only attainable with a teacher's guidance.
Just after ten o'clock, as the platform outside began to fill with families and the noise swelled, a gentle knock came at the compartment door.
"Excuse me, is this compartment available?" a girl asked, her voice bright and curious. She had long, slightly messy brown hair and clear, light-green eyes that were wide with anticipation. She looked young, perhaps exactly the same age as Anduin.
"It is empty. Please, come in," Anduin replied, smiling.
The girl struggled awkwardly with a rather bulky suitcase, trying to hoist it onto the luggage rack.
"Allow me," Anduin offered gently. He lifted his hand and, without a word or incantation, sent the girl's heavy trunk flying up to settle neatly beside his own.
The girl stared, her eyes widening even further. "Wow! You can use wandless magic! Are you a senior, then? I'm Vivian Bulstrode, and I'm a first-year starting today."
"No, I assure you, I am a novice as well," Anduin replied smoothly, tucking his wand discreetly back into his robe pocket. "I'm Anduin Wilson. And honestly, that is the single, solitary spell I have managed to master without the wand." A necessary, polite lie, he thought. He didn't want the attention that would come with announcing his dual mastery of the Levitation and Barrier Charms.
Vivian settled into the seat across from him, her initial apprehension replaced by immediate curiosity. "You're incredible! The Levitation Charm is usually so tricky! Which pure-blood family are you from? I don't recognize the Wilson name."
Anduin prepared his standard, brief explanation. "I am an orphan, and a Muggle-born wizard."
Vivian stared at him, openly skeptical. "You absolutely do not look like a Muggle-born! Your casting of that charm was far too clean. But, well, if you say so. I'm quite new to the Pure-Blood world myself, actually."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping slightly, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "The Bulstrode family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight! But my grandfather was a Squib—a magic-less child. He was thrown out, exiled entirely. When my acceptance letter arrived, he was so overjoyed that it was like a redemption for the entire line. Thanks to me, our small branch has been accepted back into the Bulstrode fold!"
Anduin raised an eyebrow, finding her pride baffling. "Your family exiled your grandfather for something he couldn't control, and you are happy to re-join them? The focus on bloodline seems… rigid."
"Rigid? It is tradition!" Vivian declared, utterly failing to see his point. "My grandfather hated being a Squib. I am his pride! We are back in the family—that is everything. To be part of the oldest wizarding lines! You wouldn't understand the weight of that history."
She is thoroughly indoctrinated, Anduin observed internally. Her identity was entirely wrapped up in the approval of a family that had previously shunned her kin.
Just then, a furious, loud commotion erupted on the platform outside their compartment window. Many people rushed toward the source, shouting.
"Vivian, what is happening out there?" Anduin asked, the sound too aggressive to be a simple farewell.
"Let me see!" Vivian, a magnet for gossip and spectacle, immediately pulled the window open and craned her neck out for a better view.
She pulled her head back in, smoothing her wind-tossed hair, her eyes bright with insider knowledge. "That's the Travers family and the McKinnon family. They are having a very public argument."
She lowered her voice, leaning even closer, as if sharing state secrets. "I heard at a recent family gathering—over a truly dreadful cup of tea, mind you—that someone from the Travers family was recently exposed as a high-ranking Death Eater. An Auror from the McKinnon family was gravely wounded by that specific Death Eater."
She continued, adopting a dramatic whisper, "The McKinnons are furious! They claim the entire Travers family are sympathizers loyal to Voldemort—I mean, the Dark Lord. The Travers lot, naturally, are denying it. They claim it was merely a single, personal act, and that the family is loyal to the Ministry."
Anduin stared at her, genuinely impressed. "How is it possible you know all this? You just rejoined the clan, yet you seem to have an encyclopedia of pure-blood grudges at your disposal."
Vivian puffed out her chest with exaggerated importance. "Since our reinstatement, the Bulstrode Head has been taking me to all the key social functions. It's unavoidable, Anduin! Over dinner and tea, these stories are all anyone talks about. The political feuds, the old betrayals, who betrayed whom during the last war… trust me, pure-blood politics run deep, deep, deep! It's complicated, but utterly fascinating!"
The girl is not merely a pupil; she is a natural-born society columnist. Anduin suppressed a smile. Vivian wasn't just gossipy; she was an invaluable, accidental source of information, a human sieve for the political dirt that never made it into the mainstream Daily Prophet.
Her perspective, though tainted by pure-blood dogma, offered a crucial window into the deep-seated loyalties and hatreds that fueled the ongoing war.
This world is far more complicated, and far more petty, than I initially thought.
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