Albert listened to the boys' chatter and began to piece together a crucial aspect of the wizarding world: despite all the magic, the children here were often profoundly bored and isolated.
The Weasleys' home, the Burrow, was famously located in an obscure part of Ottery St. Catchpole, hidden away from the Muggle eye. Yet, even within the cloistered magical community, neighbors were miles apart. The closest wizarding family, the Diggorys, still required a decent broomstick flight to visit.
The twins mentioned that their older brother, Percy, had a Muggle friend—a girl—but Fred and George themselves seemed to hold a cautious distance from the non-magical world.
"It's generally hard to mesh with Muggles," Lee Jordan admitted, picking at a snag in his robe. "They tend to find us… peculiar. And we can't exactly practice spells in the middle of town, can we? Besides, living so far out in the hills, I rarely even saw other kids unless it was during holidays or official gatherings."
Lee's situation was even more solitary; as an only child in a wizarding family, he often struggled to find any playmates at all. The notion of wandering into the Muggle village of Ottery St. Catchpole for a casual game was entirely foreign to them.
Albert, in contrast, felt like a social titan. He had his sister, a library full of books, and the easy ability to join a casual Muggle football game if he felt like it—though he usually didn't, finding the activities of younger children rather tedious.
Yet, his social standing was built on something concrete: his exceptional grades, varied talents, and an almost unnatural knack for managing relationships. He was popular not because he was particularly gregarious, but because he was competent and easy to converse with.
It was this stark difference that led to Albert's next query. He was astonished to learn that wizarding children, even those who lived adjacent to the Muggle world, rarely—if ever—attended Muggle primary schools.
"It's truly hard to imagine," Albert mused aloud, leaning back against the plush seat, "a family like the Malfoys allowing their heir to sit in a classroom full of Muggles, learning things like fractions and geography."
"Absolutely not," Fred scoffed. "We learned everything we needed from home until we got our Hogwarts letters."
"Some half-bloods or Muggle-borns might start in Muggle schools, of course," George added, "but for pure-bloods like us, it's all home tutoring, basic charms, and family histories."
Albert nodded, filing away this confirmation of the sheer cultural gap. He shifted the conversation slightly, a curiosity nagging at him that he'd almost forgotten. "By the way, have any of you ever heard of a wizarding family with the surname Smith?"
His paternal grandfather's origins were rooted in a family called Smith. His grandfather had later aligned with his Muggle relatives and changed his name, a decision that spoke volumes about the disdain he held for the wizarding member who had abandoned him.
Fred and George exchanged puzzled glances. "Smith? Doesn't ring a bell."
Lee Jordan shook his head, running through the mental index of family trees he'd encountered. "Nope. Smith is a very common Muggle name, though. Why? Are they related to you?"
"Nothing important," Albert dismissed, staring out the window. "Just heard the name somewhere, I suppose." He then realized, not for the first time, that Lee Jordan was an absolute, ceaseless chatterbox. The stream of magical trivia and neighborhood gossip, however, served as a peculiar form of white noise, turning the compartment into a hypnotic, slightly boring cocoon.
Albert's eyes drifted shut, and when he opened them again, the deep rumble of the train had changed pitch—it was slowing.
A sudden, slightly distorted voice boomed over the train's magical loudspeaker system, cutting through the drumming rain: "We will be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes. Kindly leave your luggage aboard the train; it will be delivered to the castle for you."
"Merlin's beard, finally," Fred yawned, stretching his long limbs with a crack. The prolonged confinement of the compartment had clearly worn on his energy.
George, ever the tidy one, began sweeping the candy wrappers and soda cans into Albert's open suitcase—a clear indication of their acceptance of Albert as the group's pragmatic leader.
When the train eventually hissed to a complete stop, the change was instantaneous. The serene, enclosed compartment dissolved into a crush of elbows and bodies. Albert and his companions joined the frantic, shoving throng in the narrow corridor, all eager to escape the stale air and see their new school.
Stepping off the Hogwarts Express was a shock. They landed on a small, dark, and highly functional platform, instantly assaulted by the night air. The cold rain was not a gentle shower but a freezing, relentless downpour, causing Albert to involuntarily shiver. The warmth of the train was immediately replaced by the biting chill of the Scottish Highlands.
"I detest rain," Albert grumbled to himself, pulling out his wand. He didn't want the night to start with damp clothes and a fever. Focusing his will and visualizing the intent, he cast a subtle charm on his pointed hat: "Aquaferro Impervius."
He hoped the Fire and Water Impervious Charm would hold up under this kind of torrential abuse.
"First-years! First-years, over here, if you please!" A tremendously loud voice bellowed across the chaos of the platform. Holding a massive oil lamp aloft, a giant figure waved its light back and forth, attempting to corral the disorganized flock of incoming students.
"What are you doing? Move it, Albert!" Fred's hand clamped onto his arm, urging him forward into the crowd.
"One second," Albert insisted, pulling his elbow free. He directed the same charm at his school robes. He was not risking the first impression being a sodden mess. "Aquaferro Impervius." He hoped it worked as a basic waterproofing spell, reasoning that a charm meant to ward off fire and water should certainly repel simple rain.
"Come on, Albert, hurry up!" Lee Jordan urged, already halfway submerged in the sea of black-robed students.
"I'm coming. Lumos," Albert murmured, tapping his wand tip to provide a small, focused beam of light in the growing darkness. He then strode toward the giant. The man, with his intimidating height and wild, black beard, looked exactly like the kind of person Muggles would rightly fear. A stranger would immediately assume he was a dangerous, possibly insane mountain man.
"Any more first-years? If that's everyone, let's go!" The giant, who Albert knew from the books must be Hagrid, led them away from the dry security of the platform.
Without the shelter of the train, the cold rain was an immediate, visceral shock. It soaked into the air and raised goosebumps on the skin of every student who hadn't thought to cast a protective charm.
"Mind your footing now!" Hagrid roared, though his warning was largely useless. The path, barely wider than a deer track, was already a muddy slurry thanks to the relentless storm. Students were slipping, sliding, and falling every few steps.
Albert pulled his pointed hat low over his face and drew his magically sealed robes tighter. The Aquaferro Impervius charm was a triumph; while he still felt the cold air, the water simply beaded up and rolled off the fabric, leaving him perfectly dry.
A sudden flash of annoyance hit him. Why didn't I remember to enchant my wand to act as an umbrella? He knew he had a perfectly good folding umbrella stored away in his suitcase, currently on its way to the castle, utterly useless.
He mentally resolved to prioritize learning more general utility charms—especially one for keeping dry, which seemed infinitely more practical than most of the flashier spells.
"Are you alright there?" Albert asked, extending a hand to a girl who had just lost her footing right in front of him, landing with a loud, squelching thump in the mud.
"Thank you," the girl gasped gratefully, pulling herself up, now thoroughly coated in grime. "This journey is already proving to be a nightmare."
"Let's continue," Albert said, dropping her hand. He used his wand's Lumos light to carefully trace the edges of the path, navigating the slick, treacherous mud slowly but surely.
This inaugural journey was turning into a disaster for the majority of the first-years. Many were falling, slipping into the mud, and looking less like future wizards and more like drowned, angry rats. He could hear Lee Jordan, somewhere behind him, muttering fierce curses under his breath, clearly having been dragged down by the panicked students around him.
Albert was silently congratulating himself for delaying his departure slightly. It meant he wasn't trapped in the thickest part of the crowd, nor was he being pulled down by the panicking students ahead. His calculated, almost detached self-preservation had paid off immediately.
"Watch your step! It's downhill from here," Hagrid yelled, his voice carrying easily over the storm.
The path took a steep plunge. Hagrid went down first, positioning his massive frame at the bottom to act as an impromptu guardrail. It was a good thing he did: three students in quick succession lost their footing on the muddy, steep incline and would have tumbled if Hagrid hadn't grabbed them and yanked them upright with alarming ease.
"Careful! We're nearly at the loch," Hagrid announced.
After the harrowing descent, the group turned a bumpy corner and finally came to a complete halt on the shore of a vast, black sheet of water. The surface of the lake, whipped by the rain and wind, looked cold and terrifying.
And there it was.
Rising majestically on the steep hillside across the dark water stood a truly breathtaking silhouette: Hogwarts Castle.
Despite the downpour and the murky night, the castle was magnificent. Lights glittered from hundreds of windows, carving the outlines of turrets, towers, and parapets against the forbidding sky. It stood like an enormous, ancient guardian, proud and defiant against the churning elements. The sight sent a vague, thrilling surge of excitement through Albert's chest—a feeling of finally arriving at the center of this new, fantastical life.
"No more than four to a boat! Remember, four only!" Hagrid shouted, pointing to a small fleet of small, sturdy boats bobbing near the shore.
"Albert, over here!" Fred waved, joined by George and a heavily soiled Lee Jordan. They looked utterly miserable, covered head to toe in brown mud.
Albert stepped into the boat, trying not to laugh. "You three look like you wrestled a bog beast and lost."
"It was horrid. I went down once, and then Fred used me as a cushion and pulled me down again!" Lee complained, trying futilely to brush some of the mud off his knees.
"All aboard!" Hagrid called out, checking each boat with the glow of his lantern to ensure no one was overloaded. He took the last boat for himself. "Excellent, then... FORWARD!"
With a mysterious, unseen thrust, the little fleet of boats began to glide silently across the cold, black lake. The only sound was the incessant drumming of the rain and the rhythmic slosh of the water against the hulls.
Albert looked back up at the illuminated castle, now dominating the view as they approached. Hogwarts. He had arrived. The salted fish had just gotten a spectacular new aquarium.