The summer holidays ended far too quickly. The no-rules brawl at Diagon Alley felt as if it had only happened yesterday, yet the calendar had already been torn down to the final page of August.
Tomorrow, they would board the train back to school.
During this break, Eda had focused most of her attention on those three watchers, and so overlooked much of what was happening around her.
For instance, Percy's romance.
Percy had locked himself in his room for nearly the whole summer, just to write letters to the girl he liked. Percy the officialdom-obsessed, the one who read How Prefects Gain Power, actually liked a girl—it was truly unexpected.
And then there was Ginny's change.
The eleven-year-old seemed to have grown up overnight, beginning to keep her own secrets. She would hide from Eda when writing in her diary, and no longer pester Eda with endless questions like before.
She even refused both her mother's and Eda's offers to help her pack for school.
Eda didn't think too much about Ginny's transformation in the latter half of the holiday. She simply assumed that Harry's arrival had sped up the little girl's growth.
With her idol so close by, Ginny naturally wanted to become better, and so she no longer displayed the same childish little-sister mannerisms. After all, if she continued like that and was seen as just a sister by her idol—what then?
On this matter, Eda thought she was standing at stratospheric heights, but in truth she was still stuck in the basement.
On the final night, Mrs. Weasley prepared a grand table of food, making sure there were dishes to suit everyone's tastes.
You might think that after half a summer of playing favorites, Mrs. Weasley would, for this last evening, treat everyone equally. But no—Harry's favorite foods were clearly more abundant than anyone else's.
After the lavish dinner, Eda pulled Ron into another round of wizard's chess. But she couldn't battle him until dawn, because the twins had dimmed the lights inside—they were about to begin their fireworks show.
The fireworks included Filibuster's as well as some small ones they had invented themselves. The house was filled with glittering starlight, red and blue sparks bouncing between the ceiling and walls.
The flickering lights gave Eda the illusion of being in a nightclub. If only some spirited youngster appeared, waving his hands and shouting "857, 857," the scene would be complete.
The next morning, Mrs. Weasley hurriedly woke everyone. In a rush, they stuffed their belongings into the car.
Nine people, seven large trunks, two owls, one dog, and one rat—the Ford Anglia, considering its age and mileage, was forced to carry far more weight than it ever should have.
It was then that Eda finally understood why people wished others "smooth sailing" when setting out on a trip. For after Mr. Weasley drove the car out of the Burrow, they had to return three separate times for things they'd forgotten.
Not only did Mrs. Weasley's temper grow sharp, even Eda found it hard to endure.
By the time they finally reached King's Cross Station, the Hogwarts Express was only fifteen minutes away from departure.
The entire family dashed toward Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. They moved so fast that sparks seemed to fly from the wheels of the luggage trolleys.
Mr. Weasley and Percy were the first to rush through the barrier, with Eda and the twins close behind. The moment George slipped through, Mrs. Weasley charged forward with Ginny at her side.
They barely managed to board the train—so narrowly that they didn't even have time to say goodbye—before it let out a billow of smoke and sped off toward the Scottish Highlands.
No one noticed that Harry and Ron, who had fallen behind, never made it onto the train, nor even appeared on the platform.
...
In one of the compartments at the very end of the train, friends who hadn't seen each other all summer were greeting each other warmly.
It seemed that many had grown up over the holidays.
Angelina and Alicia had shed the childishness from their faces, and even Lee Jordan had become more composed—no longer holding up a bag of spiders to ask girls if they liked them.
Growing up isn't just about the body. It's not when fuzz appears on your upper lip, or when your chest begins to develop, that you're grown. It's from the day you understand what responsibility means, and what it is to bear it—that's when you're truly grown.
"You've all heard, right? This year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is Gilderoy Lockhart," Fred opened the conversation, "that guy who smiles like an idiot."
Anyone who read the Daily Prophet already knew the news. While everyone else kept their distance from the cursed position, Lockhart had chosen to step right in.
Whether it was fearless ignorance or brazen confidence, no one could quite tell.
"Not as bad as you say, is it?" Alicia remarked. "I think he seems fine, and besides, he graduated from Ravenclaw."
"Not as bad?" George pointed at Eda. "After seeing Lockhart in Diagon Alley, Eda nearly went home and burned all her clothes—just because they were the same color as his."
Angelina and Alicia stared at Eda in disbelief—Eda was always polite to her professors, with the exception of Snape and Quirrell.
Lee Jordan, being a straightforward sort of boy, didn't beat around the bush. He shot back, "Quirinus Quirrell was a Ravenclaw too, and his classes were an absolute disaster. And he even got thrashed by the Dark Lord and Eda."
"That's different," Alicia argued. "Quirrell was a special case. You can't assume every Ravenclaw professor is like that, can you? And besides, how many in the wizarding world are as strong as our Eda? Losing to her isn't shameful at all."
"I think we should trust Dumbledore," Angelina said reasonably. "If he chose Lockhart, he must have his reasons. It's a bit unfair to lump him in with Quirrell before he's even taught a single class."
Most people's poor impression of Gilderoy Lockhart came down to three things: his looks, his flamboyant way of doing things, and his extravagant supply list.
On top of that, while his books described glorious achievements, nobody outside of them had ever seen him actually perform. Naturally, that invited suspicion.
Over the course of the coming year, the truth would be revealed: whether Gilderoy Lockhart was truly as great as his books claimed, or nothing more than a fraud peddling foolish smiles—everything would show itself in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Maybe he's already drafting a new book," Fred said with disdain. "I've even got the title ready for him: A Year Teaching the Boy Who Lived."
Fred's words made Eda think of herself. She had once wanted to write The Roof That Sheltered Me with the Boy Who Lived from the Rain. Now a year had passed, and she hadn't even written down the title.
"His writing skills are undeniable though. Those books are well written," Eda said, having already read all of Lockhart's works. "I just hope he's worth every Knut I spent on them—otherwise, I won't let it slide."
A little exaggeration was normal in literature—otherwise, where would the selling point be?
As long as Lockhart wasn't completely useless, everyone could accept him. Quirrell's existence had already lowered the students' expectations for this class. As long as Lockhart behaved like a normal wizard, that alone would count as a pass.
The group was chatting enthusiastically when a knock on the door interrupted them.
Hermione slid the door open, and behind her stood a flustered Ginny. Ginny glanced into the compartment, and her eyes instantly turned red.
"What's wrong?" Fred shot to his feet at once, pulling his sister closer. "Who bullied you? Was it that Malfoy brat?"
George and Lee Jordan also rolled up their sleeves, ready to go and teach the little prince a lesson in anatomy.
"Where are Ron and Harry?" Eda asked. The trio were always inseparable, but now Hermione had come with only Ginny. Clearly, something was wrong.
"Ginny and I searched through every carriage, but we didn't see Harry or Ron anywhere." Hermione was visibly anxious. "And you don't have them either… Eda, what should we do?"
Hermione Granger was only a second-year student now—not yet the Hermione who could turn the entire story into Hermione and Her Two Useless Friends. Not finding Harry and Ron made her panic, and she instinctively turned to Eda for help.
Thinking back carefully, after entering the platform, she truly hadn't seen Ron or Harry again. Eda asked, "Fred, George, did either of you see Ron and Harry come through the platform?"
"After us, it was you. After you, it was Mum and Ginny…" Fred recalled. "Don't tell me those two never got in at all!"
Ginny, who had just been comforted, felt her eyes redden again. Her crush and her brother had both gone missing—this blow was too heavy.
George, who had been about to speak, closed his mouth instead and turned to comfort his only sister.
"Hermione, Ginny, don't worry," Eda reassured the two young girls. "We entered the platform and the train departed immediately. Even if Ron and Harry didn't manage to get through, all they need to do is wait a little while. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will eventually come back out, and they'll definitely find a way to get them to school."
If Eda had been Ron or Harry, she would have simply waited in place and left the matter to her elders. If she herself had missed the train, she would have Apparated straight to Hogsmeade without hesitation.
But one concern lingered in her mind: the house-elf Dobby had warned Harry that terrible things would happen at Hogwarts, begging him not to return.
Now Ron and Harry hadn't made it through the barrier to board the train—was it really just because they were late?
Could Dobby's interference really be dismissed as nothing more than a mischievous prank?
Eda drew her wand and murmured softly, "Expecto Patronum!"
A silvery-white, translucent mist burst from the tip of her wand, quickly coalescing into the shape of a chow chow. The fluffy, good-natured-looking dog circled her twice before leaping out the window and racing northward.
"What was that?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed. She had never seen such a spell before.
"A Patronus Charm," Eda replied. "I've sent word to Professor McGonagall about Ron and Harry missing the train. She'll know what to do."
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