At Hogwarts Castle, the Headmaster's office was quieter than usual. The silver instruments on Dumbledore's shelves ticked, whirred, and released thin curls of smoke, while the portraits of former headmasters pretended to sleep with varying degrees of success. Behind his desk, Albus Dumbledore sat with his half-moon spectacles low on his nose, his expression unusually grave.
"Mr Nelson," Dumbledore said, folding his hands before him, "you're telling me that for some unknown reason, the Hogwarts Express suddenly accelerated on its own?"
"Yes, Headmaster." Mr Nelson stood stiffly in front of the desk, his face still pale from the journey. "It happened at roughly half past twelve. The Hogwarts Express began picking up speed without warning, and it kept accelerating until the train was moving far faster than it ever should on that route."
Dumbledore's blue eyes sharpened behind his glasses. He did not interrupt, but the portraits around the room had stopped pretending quite so convincingly. Several old headmasters cracked one eye open, listening with interest and alarm.
"Because of that speed, the train nearly derailed several times," Mr Nelson continued. "At one point, part of it almost went over a cliff. At another, the carriages struck the side of a cliff directly. If not for the protective charms placed on the Hogwarts Express, the consequences would have been catastrophic."
He swallowed, and the sound seemed louder than it should have in the still office. "The conductor asked me to report the matter to Hogwarts immediately. He hopes you will send professors or qualified staff to inspect the train as soon as possible."
Dumbledore's expression did not change much, but the air around him seemed to grow heavier. The Hogwarts Express carried the children of the wizarding world, and any accident involving it would not simply be a school matter. If hundreds of young witches and wizards had been killed, the whole of magical Britain would have been thrown into grief and chaos.
"Very well," Dumbledore said at last. "I understand the seriousness of the situation. I'll ask the Hogwarts professors to examine the train at once."
Mr Nelson nodded quickly, but he did not look relieved. His hands remained clasped in front of him, his knuckles tense, as though there was another piece of news he would rather not deliver. Dumbledore noticed immediately.
"By the way, Mr Nelson," Dumbledore asked, "what about the students?"
"Because the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station early, the students disembarked," Mr Nelson said. "Most of them seem to have gone into Hogsmeade."
"Hogsmeade," Dumbledore repeated softly.
Under normal circumstances, that would not have worried him too much. Hogsmeade was a wizarding village, familiar to Hogwarts students and close enough to the castle that help could reach it quickly. Older students visited it regularly during the school year, and even younger students would not ordinarily be in great danger there in broad daylight.
But today was not normal. The Hogwarts Express had suddenly accelerated without explanation, and Dumbledore could not ignore the possibility that someone had acted deliberately. If the incident had been a plot aimed at the students, then the danger might not have ended merely because the train had survived.
His thoughts moved quickly. A dark wizard had vanished in Diagon Alley not long ago, Voldemort was still a shadow waiting for any chance to return, and Harry Potter had just begun his first year at Hogwarts. Too many dangerous threads had gathered at the same time, and Dumbledore had lived too long to dismiss coincidence too easily.
"All right, Mr Nelson," he said, rising from his chair. "I understand. Thank you for coming all this way to inform me."
"Then I'll leave this in your hands, Headmaster." Mr Nelson bowed slightly, still looking troubled, then turned and left the office.
Once the door closed behind him, Dumbledore paced twice around the room. The portraits watched him openly now, their painted faces solemn, while Fawkes shifted on his golden perch and let out a low, musical note. Dumbledore lifted his wand and summoned his Patronus, and a silver phoenix burst from the tip in a wash of bright, gentle light.
"Ask Minerva, Severus, Filius, and Pomona to come to the Headmaster's office," Dumbledore said.
The phoenix inclined its shining head, then swept out of the office and vanished through the door like moonlight slipping through water. Dumbledore lowered his wand and returned to his desk, though he did not sit. He remained standing, one hand resting lightly on the back of his chair.
A Patronus was best known as a defence against Dementors, but Dumbledore had long ago refined another use for it. In his hands, the charm could carry messages swiftly and securely, crossing the castle without disturbing the students or relying on owls. It was a small piece of magic, elegant and practical, and one that had proved useful more than once.
Professor McGonagall arrived first, as Dumbledore had expected. She entered with her usual brisk precision, her tartan robes neat, her posture straight, and her eyes already narrowed with concern. She was always punctual, and a direct summons from Dumbledore was not something she treated lightly.
"Albus," she said the moment she stepped inside, "has something happened?"
"Minerva, let us wait until Severus and the others arrive." Dumbledore raised a hand gently, stopping her before she could press further. "I would rather explain only once."
Professor McGonagall's mouth tightened. The first day of term was always demanding, and as Deputy Headmistress, she had more than enough work waiting for her. Sorting arrangements, staff coordination, first-year preparations, and a dozen other matters did not handle themselves, no matter how often Dumbledore behaved as though they might.
Still, she trusted him. If he had summoned all four Heads of House before the students had even reached the castle, then the matter was serious. She moved to one side of the room and waited, though her fingers tapped once against her sleeve before she stilled them.
Professor Filius Flitwick arrived next, small and sharp-eyed, his expression bright with concern. Professor Pomona Sprout followed soon after, smelling faintly of earth and greenhouse herbs, her kind face creased with worry. Before either of them could ask what was wrong, the door opened once more.
Severus Snape swept into the office in a billow of black robes, moving like a large, ill-tempered bat. His dark eyes moved from Dumbledore to McGonagall, then to Flitwick and Sprout, and his expression cooled further. He did not like being summoned without explanation, especially on a day already full of students.
"Albus," Professor McGonagall said at once, unable to restrain herself any longer, "can you tell us now? What in Merlin's name has happened?"
Flitwick and Sprout looked toward Dumbledore as well, while Snape folded his arms inside his sleeves and waited in silence. The Headmaster's office seemed to hold its breath around them.
"Something has happened," Dumbledore said. "Mr Nelson from the Hogwarts Express came here a few minutes ago. He reported a serious incident during the journey. According to him, the train suddenly accelerated, nearly derailed, and came close to crashing."
"What?" Professor McGonagall's face went white. For a moment, her legs seemed to weaken beneath her, and she gripped the back of a nearby chair to steady herself. "Merlin's beard. The students—"
Professor Sprout covered her mouth with one hand, horror widening her eyes. It was painfully easy to imagine what might have happened if the Hogwarts Express had gone over a cliff with the students trapped inside. The thought alone was enough to drain the colour from her face.
"I remember the Hogwarts Express being protected by very strong charms," Professor Flitwick said, though his voice had lost its usual lightness. "Stabilising enchantments, collision protections, structural reinforcement, and more besides."
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "It was precisely because of those protections that no disaster occurred. However, the sudden acceleration itself may not have been natural. There may have been an outside factor."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "You believe a wizard did this."
Dumbledore did not answer immediately, and that silence was answer enough.
"If someone deliberately endangered the Hogwarts Express, the purpose is obvious," Snape said coldly. "Had the train crashed, many of the students would have died. Hogwarts might have been forced to close, and the entire wizarding world would have been thrown into chaos."
Professor Sprout let out a soft, distressed sound. "Oh, this is terrible. Dumbledore, where are the children now?"
"Because the train arrived at Hogsmeade Station early, the students left the platform," Dumbledore said. "It appears most of them have gone into Hogsmeade."
Professor McGonagall stared at him. Her shock lasted only a heartbeat before anger rose to replace it. "They dared go to Hogsmeade on their own?"
Her voice sharpened with every word. The students had survived a near disaster, and instead of waiting safely at the station, they had wandered into the village without permission or supervision. Fear for them and fury at them burned together in her eyes.
"If the same wizard's target is the students," Snape said softly, "then discovering they survived may only encourage another attempt. Hogsmeade would provide more than enough opportunities."
"Merlin's beard," Professor McGonagall said, pressing a hand to her mouth. "That would be dreadful. We cannot allow the students to be harmed."
Professor Sprout nodded at once, her usual warmth replaced by firm urgency. Professor Flitwick's expression had gone grave, and even Snape looked more severe than disdainful. The danger was too serious for house rivalries or ordinary staff disagreements.
"Albus," Professor McGonagall said, already turning toward the door, "we must go to Hogsmeade immediately and bring all the students back."
"We really should act at once, Albus."
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