September 1st arrived before anyone quite realized it—the first day of the new term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
To avoid any mishaps, Wyzett and his companions made a point of arriving at King's Cross Station a full hour before the Hogwarts Express was due to depart.
Along the way, they helped a nervous first-year student slip through the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten, stepping together onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
"This is amazing! We just walked straight through a wall? What if you get stuck halfway? Would your bum be left sticking out?"
"Wow! Is that a steam train? It looks ancient—but how come it's so shiny? And it doesn't even smell weird!"
The new boy gawked at everything, eyes wide as saucers, snapping away with his Polaroid until he vanished into the swirling crowd.
Xenophilius walked with Luna a little longer, fussing over her as he had since yesterday afternoon—reminding her to get enough sleep, to stay cheerful, never to let herself go hungry… The words changed order, but the sentiment never wavered.
"If you've got time, write home to Dad. If you're too tired, have Wyzett write for you—he sent so many letters last year…"
"I know, Dad!" Luna beamed, nodding with every word. "I'll write to you myself, I promise! And you take care of yourself, too…"
Before long, the new boy reappeared, breathless. "Finally found you! You helped me so much just now—let me take a photo for you!"
He fumbled with his Polaroid, snapping pictures as he introduced himself. "I'm Colin—Colin Creevey."
Wyzett and the others introduced themselves in turn.
Seeing the camera in Colin's hands, Wyzett had an idea. "Mr. Lovegood, once I've brewed some developing potion, I'll send you an extra magical photo!"
He'd never been much for taking pictures himself, but seeing Xenophilius's look of reluctant farewell made him think of it.
"That would be wonderful!" Xenophilius nodded, his voice tinged with pride. "Already a potioneer in just one year…"
He clapped Wyzett on the shoulder. "I should be off. Take good care of Luna. I'll handle those potions at home, and I'll open a vault for you at Gringotts soon."
He hugged Luna tightly, then disappeared into the crowd—turning back every few steps, reluctant to let go.
Colin trailed behind Wyzett, eager to photograph everything—broomsticks, owls, and every magical pet in sight.
He was a natural at making friends, following Wyzett and Luna into a carriage compartment.
"The wizarding world is just brilliant! Before I got my letter, I had no idea all those weird things that happened were magic!"
"My dad's a milkman—couldn't come to see me off, so I'm on my own. But I promised him I'd take pictures of everything and send them home!"
"Wyzett, that developing potion you mentioned… what does it do? Are magical photos like the moving pictures in the wizard newspapers?"
Wyzett explained, "Yes, there's a potion that makes photographs move."
"Could you help me make mine move too?" Colin bounced in his seat, his cheeks flushed with excitement.
He rummaged in his bag, producing two bottles of milk, then dug through a side pocket until he came up with a handful of bronze Knuts and a couple of silver Sickles.
"These are for you. I know potions aren't cheap—my dad told me! And this milk…"
"My dad gave it to me. He said if I made friends, I should share it with them. Would you… would you take it?"
Wyzett accepted only the milk, proposing another idea—maybe he could occasionally borrow the Polaroid to take some pictures of Luna's daily life, develop them with the potion, and send them to Xenophilius.
That way, Xenophilius would be even happier.
Colin was never one to sit still. Soon enough, he slung his bag over his shoulder and darted off down the train, on a quest to find Harry Potter.
Wyzett cast a household warming charm on the milk, letting it slowly heat in his hands.
The carriages of the Hogwarts Express were bustling. Wyzett's dorm-mates flashed by in the corridor.
"Where's Wyzett gone? He was in Sweden too—he must know about that tree, the one that touches the sky…"
Soon enough, they doubled back and piled into the compartment.
Black-haired Michael came in first, waving. "Hi, Luna! I'm Wyzett's roommate—Michael Corner."
Luna waved back. "Hello, Mr. Corner!"
"Just call me Michael." Michael flopped down right next to Wyzett. "This is our first time meeting, but we all knew about you at the start of term."
Luna blinked. "Really? Because of those letters?"
"More important than homework!" Anthony was next through the door. "Luna, you don't know—he never put this much effort into the professors' assignments!"
Wyzett coughed and protested, "I always put in effort."
Terry followed. "I can vouch for that! Wyzett's always worked hard—Anthony's just talking rubbish. I'm Terry Boot, but just call me Terry."
"Better not tell Anthony which reference book to use for essays," Chris added, entering last. "Hi Luna, I'm Chris."
Luna waved at each of them in turn, smiling.
With so many people squeezed in, the compartment felt instantly crowded.
Wyzett shifted closer to Luna, their arms brushing—each feeling the other's warmth.
He passed her the now-warm milk, asking softly, "Is it too cramped?"
Luna shook her head, taking a small sip. "No, it's lovely and warm."
"Michael, move over a bit!" Terry called out. "You're hogging half the seat."
"You just don't get it…" Michael grinned. "Wyzett, remember—Terry's the one who told me to move."
He scooted over, pressing against the far side of the seat, and asked again, "So, about that tree in Sweden—was it really real?"
"Why would I lie?" Anthony raised his eyebrows, arms crossed. "I just forgot to buy the local paper. It definitely happened!"
Wyzett edged over a little more to give Luna space and confirmed, "It was at a wizarding ruin near Stockholm—I can vouch for it."
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