Acceptance came to Alexander Chen the same way rainstorms came to London—slow, unavoidable, and deeply irritating.
He stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, hands shoved into his pockets, watching steam coil lazily around the scarlet Hogwarts Express. The train looked exactly like the illustrations. Old-fashioned. Dramatic. Proud of itself.
Alexander sighed.
"So this is it," he muttered. "Seven years of historical negligence."
His mother stood beside him, calm and composed as always, her coat immaculate, her expression unreadable in that way that meant she had already won the argument weeks ago.
Reality had finally set in.
He was going to Hogwarts.
Not Ilvermorny.
Not Thunderbird House.
Not freedom.
Hogwarts.
Alexander boarded without ceremony, dragging his trunk behind him, weaving through packed compartments filled with loud voices and excited laughter. He ignored the chaos, found an empty compartment near the middle of the train, and claimed it immediately.
Private. Quiet. Acceptable.
He shoved his trunk into the corner, then climbed onto the seat and stuck his head straight out the open window like he still had something important left to say.
He did.
"Fine!" Alexander called out as his mother approached the window. "I'm going to Hogwarts!"
Eleanor smiled, entirely too pleased.
"But just so we're clear," he continued loudly, "I will be sorted into Ravenclaw. Not because of my personality. Not because of my choices."
He pointed accusingly toward the distant castle that didn't even exist yet.
"But because I'm Asian."
Eleanor burst out laughing.
"That Sorting Hat is racist," Alexander said firmly. "I'm telling you now so you're not surprised later."
"Alex," she said, still smiling, "you haven't even met the hat yet."
"Doesn't matter," he replied. "I know how this goes."
The whistle blew.
Steam hissed.
The train lurched slightly.
Alexander leaned farther out the window. "Mom, just wait. Just wait until you get the letter from me."
"What letter?" she asked.
"The one that says, 'Dear Mother, I was sorted into Ravenclaw exactly like I predicted because the Sorting Hat is racist.'"
Eleanor laughed harder, shaking her head.
"I warned you," Alexander added urgently as the train began to move. "I warned you. This is profiling. Magical profiling!"
The platform started sliding past.
"THE SORTING HAT IS RACIST!" Alexander shouted as the distance grew. "I'M GOING TO RAVENCLAW NO MATTER WHAT! YOU'LL SEE!"
Eleanor lifted a hand and waved, eyes bright with amusement.
Alexander finally pulled his head back inside as the station vanished from view, collapsing dramatically into his seat.
He stared at the ceiling.
"…This is going to be the longest 'I told you so' in history," he muttered.
The Hogwarts Express thundered forward, carrying him straight toward destiny.
Whether he liked it or not.