The Hogwarts Express always smelled the same.
Coal smoke.
Chocolate frogs.
Old leather suitcases.
And something else—something impossible to describe but instantly recognizable to anyone who had ever stepped onto the train before.
Magic.
Albus Severus Potter stepped into the narrow corridor with a knot tightening slowly in his stomach.
Students were everywhere.
Some laughing loudly, some searching for empty compartments, some hugging their parents for the final time before the long journey north.
The train felt alive.
And yet Albus felt strangely invisible inside it.
Behind him, Harry helped lift his trunk onto the train.
"Find a seat," Harry said gently.
Albus nodded.
But he didn't move immediately.
Instead he watched his father standing on the platform.
People were staring.
Not openly, not rudely—but the way people sometimes glance twice at someone famous.
Harry Potter.
The man who defeated Lord Voldemort.
The savior of the wizarding world.
To everyone else, that name meant hero.
To Albus, it meant something very different.
Expectation.
A sharp whistle cut through the noise of the platform.
"Students only!" a conductor shouted.
Parents began stepping back.
Harry placed a hand on Albus's shoulder.
"Write to us," he said.
"I will."
"Try to enjoy yourself."
Albus nodded again.
But the words felt heavy.
Enjoy yourself.
As if it were that simple.
Harry stepped down from the train.
The door slid shut.
And suddenly the distance between them felt enormous.
Albus swallowed and turned away.
Time to find a seat.
---
The corridor was crowded.
Compartment after compartment was already full.
Laughter spilled through the doors.
Albus walked past one compartment where several older students were loudly debating Quidditch teams.
Another compartment contained a group trading chocolate frog cards.
Everywhere he looked, people seemed to already belong somewhere.
Everywhere except him.
He passed Rose Granger-Weasley sitting with several students from other wizarding families.
She waved.
"Albus! In here!"
He paused.
But something held him back.
Rose already seemed comfortable.
Already confident.
Already surrounded by friends.
Albus didn't want to sit there and feel like the extra piece in a puzzle that was already complete.
"I'll find another one," he said quickly.
Rose frowned slightly but shrugged.
"Suit yourself!"
Albus moved on.
The corridor slowly emptied as the train prepared to depart.
Finally he reached the last compartment.
The door was half open.
Inside sat a boy with pale blond hair and sharp grey eyes.
The boy was sitting very straight, his hands folded on his lap as if he had practiced the posture.
He looked up immediately.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then the boy said quietly,
"Is this seat taken?"
Albus blinked.
"No."
"Good."
The boy hesitated.
Then he added,
"Unless you'd prefer to sit somewhere else."
Albus studied him.
There was something odd about the boy's expression.
Not arrogance.
Not friendliness.
Something closer to nervousness.
"I'm Albus," he said finally.
The boy nodded.
"Scorpius."
The name landed between them like a stone.
Albus recognized it instantly.
Scorpius Malfoy.
Son of Draco Malfoy.
A family name almost as famous as Potter—but for very different reasons.
The silence stretched.
Then Scorpius spoke again.
"You've heard the rumors, haven't you?"
Albus hesitated.
Rumors were common in the wizarding world.
But some rumors were darker than others.
"What rumors?"
Scorpius gave a small, bitter smile.
"The ones about me."
Albus waited.
Scorpius looked out the window.
"They say I'm not really my father's son."
Albus frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Scorpius's voice dropped almost to a whisper.
"They say I'm the son of Lord Voldemort."
The train lurched suddenly.
With a deep metallic groan, the Hogwarts Express began to move.
Albus stared.
"That's ridiculous."
Scorpius shrugged.
"People believe ridiculous things."
Outside the window, the platform slowly slid past.
Parents waved.
Students leaned out the windows shouting final goodbyes.
Albus spotted Harry standing beside Ginny.
His father raised a hand.
Albus waved back.
But the train was already moving faster.
The platform disappeared.
King's Cross vanished behind them.
And suddenly there was no turning back.
Scorpius leaned back in his seat.
"So," he said carefully.
"You're Harry Potter's son."
Albus grimaced slightly.
"Unfortunately."
Scorpius raised an eyebrow.
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
Albus stared at the floor.
"You wouldn't understand."
Scorpius laughed softly.
"Oh, I think I might."
Another silence settled over the compartment.
But this one felt different.
Less uncomfortable.
As the countryside began to blur past the windows, Albus realized something strange.
For the first time that day—he didn't feel quite so alone.
He didn't know it yet.
But this quiet, awkward boy sitting across from him would soon become his closest ally.
His partner in the most dangerous adventure Hogwarts had seen in decades.
An adventure that would bend time itself.
And unleash secrets buried since the fall of Lord Voldemort.
---