On September 1st, Albert woke with the first light of dawn, a restless energy coursing through him. Today was the day he'd board the Hogwarts Express, the crimson steam train that would carry him to a world of magic. He stretched, shook off the remnants of sleep, and dressed quickly, his excitement tempered by a flicker of nerves.
After splashing water on his face, he began meticulously checking his luggage, ensuring every item was in place—books, wand, cauldron, and the black robe and pointed hat Daisy had reminded him to pack at the top for easy access.
"Are you awake? Come downstairs for breakfast," Daisy called, poking her head into his room, an apron tied around her waist. "Keep your robe and hat near the top—you'll need them to change on the train."
"Got it, Mom," Albert replied, zipping up his suitcase.
Nia burst in, still in her pajamas, clutching Tom, their tabby cat. "Are you really not taking Tom to Hogwarts?" she asked, her voice tinged with disappointment.
"Tom stays with you," Albert said, ruffling her hair. "He'd hate being cooped up at school."
"What about Shira?" Nia pressed, eyeing the owl's empty cage.
"She'll fly to Hogwarts on her own," Albert explained. "There's an owlery there where she'll stay. Taking her through King's Cross would draw too many stares."
Breakfast was simple but comforting: toast, scrambled eggs, and Daisy's signature corn soup. She'd also packed a ham sandwich and a canned drink for the journey, knowing Albert wouldn't go hungry with food available on the train.
Herbert handed him a small pouch of Galleons, the last of their Diagon Alley funds. "Don't spend it all on sweets," he teased, though he trusted Albert's frugality. The family had never worried about Albert's spending habits—he was too practical for extravagance.
With a flick of his wand, Albert cast Wingardium Leviosa, effortlessly floating his heavy suitcase into the car. Herbert raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Handy spell."
"Do you have your camera?" Herbert asked, referring to the one Luke had gifted Albert. "The one Dad got you?"
"Yep," Albert said, patting his bag. "I'll write every week and send photos. You'll get a glimpse of Hogwarts."
"Good," Herbert said, nodding. "Let's get moving."
The Anderssons arrived at King's Cross Station before ten o'clock, well ahead of the eleven o'clock departure. Herbert helped Albert load his suitcase onto a trolley, and they navigated the bustling station to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.
Albert, recalling Truman's advice, gestured for silence and tested the brick wall with a cautious hand. His fingers passed through, confirming the magical passage. He exhaled, relieved.
"I'll go through alone," Albert said, turning to his family. "I've got this."
"Write to us," Herbert reminded him. "And send those photos."
"I will," Albert promised, then looked at Nia. "Behave, okay? No trouble for Mom and Dad."
"You're so bossy," Nia huffed, but she hugged him tightly. "I want to go too."
"Don't cause a ruckus at home," Albert teased, returning the hug.
Daisy pulled him into a warm embrace, kissing his cheek. "See you at winter break, sweetheart. We'll go skiing."
"Deal," Albert said, smiling. He glanced around to ensure no Muggles were watching, then jogged toward the barrier, pushing his trolley. The wall swallowed him whole.
"He's gone," Nia said, pointing at the spot where Albert vanished.
"Magic's something else," Herbert said, wrapping an arm around Daisy and Nia. "He'll be fine. Albert always is."
On the other side, Albert emerged onto Platform 9¾, a hidden station alive with the huffing of a crimson steam locomotive. A sign above the train read Hogwarts Express, its letters gleaming under the platform's lanterns.
The air buzzed with anticipation, though the platform was sparsely populated—it was barely ten o'clock. A notification pinged on Albert's interface: Discovered Platform 9¾. Reward: 100 experience points. He dismissed it, noting the meager reward. Exploring new locations seemed to yield minimal experience, but every bit helped.
The train, an antique marvel with polished brass and gleaming wood, fascinated him. It was his first time on such an old-fashioned locomotive, a stark contrast to modern Muggle trains.
He pushed his trolley along the platform, soaking in the details—the faint smell of coal, the chatter of early arrivals. Finding an empty compartment, he used Wingardium Leviosa to hoist his suitcase onto the rack, then changed into his Hogwarts robe, the black fabric feeling oddly formal against his skin.
As he opened the compartment window, Shira swooped in, landing on the table with a soft hoot. "Decided to hitch a ride, huh?" Albert said, stroking her feathers. He poured owl nuts into a dish, and Shira pecked at them, ignoring Tom's absence. "Smart girl."
Remembering his promise, Albert grabbed his camera and stepped back onto the platform, snapping a few photos of the Hogwarts Express. His photography skills were rudimentary, the images slightly crooked, but Luke had supplied plenty of film, anticipating Albert's amateur attempts. Selecting a decent shot of the locomotive's gleaming engine, he nodded in satisfaction and returned to his compartment.
Settling by the window, Albert watched as the platform gradually filled with students and families. A drizzle began to fall, cloaking the station in a misty haze. "Always raining when it's time for Hogwarts," he muttered, amused by the cliché. Wizards on the platform unfurled umbrellas, their hurried farewells made awkward by the wet weather.
Albert's thoughts drifted to the year ahead. He wondered which familiar faces from the wizarding world he might meet. He was a year ahead of Harry Potter, likely sharing his time at Hogwarts with the Weasley twins and Cedric Diggory.
He had no desire to cross paths with the Boy Who Lived—Potter's knack for attracting danger was legendary, and Albert preferred to avoid the chaos of a "Chosen One" halo. Cedric's fate in the books was a grim reminder of what happened to those caught in Potter's orbit without luck or plot armor.
The rain intensified, and Albert narrowed the window to keep out the damp. Shira, full from her meal, dozed in her cage, her nocturnal habits kicking in. He unwrapped a chocolate frog from his pocket, popping it into his mouth before it could leap away.
The sweet richness paired well with the rhythmic patter of rain, lifting his mood. He didn't mind the weather, as long as he stayed dry.
The corridor outside grew lively with students' voices, but Albert kept his compartment door closed, muffling the noise. He pulled out Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and flipped through its familiar pages.
He'd read it multiple times, practicing spells like Stupefy and Protego during the summer, though he'd failed to cast the Patronus Charm. The Unforgivable Curses, naturally, he'd avoided entirely—too risky, even for an experiment.
His interface logged his progress: Dark Forces Spells at Level 1, with a handful of experience points trickling in from his reading. The slow grind was frustrating, but Albert was patient. He'd master magic step by step, without relying too heavily on his experience pool.
A commotion on the platform caught his attention. A family with a gaggle of red-haired children rushed through the rain, their voices loud with urgency.
"Hurry, the train's leaving soon!" a woman called. Albert recognized the Weasleys—two identical boys, likely Fred and George, and a younger boy, Ron, who looked slightly dazed. A girl, probably Ginny, clung to her mother, her face a mix of envy and sadness as she watched her brothers board.
Albert smirked, comparing Ginny to Nia. "Nia's cuter," he thought, amused by his bias. The Weasleys' haste suggested they'd been delayed, a chaotic start to their journey.
A knock on his compartment door interrupted his thoughts. Albert closed his book, curious about who might be seeking him out before the train even left the station.